Clearly This Wasn't Well Thought Out

I've made a decision. There will be no more working on the day after Christmas for me. I'll put my request for time off in way early, like October early so that no one can say I didn't warn them. Because obviously, being at work on December 26 is total crap.

Usually I'm unmotivated, sure, but this is a whole new level of unmotivatedness. Granted, I've actually done a pretty good amount of work so far today, but I couldn't give less of a shit about any of it. So, never again internet. Never. Ever. Again. And in a blatant showing of my disregard for working the day after such a holy occasion, I've protested by wearing one of my socks inside out. Yeah. That'll show 'em.

_____________________________________________________________

By the way, I hope you all had a loverly Christmas!

Toesies

citygirl: "I have this weird thing where when my toenails get to a certain length I don't have to clip them, I can just pull off the part of the nail that sticks out."

FI-ance: "Oh...What?"

citygirl: "See?" (showing off a newly pulled toenail to FIance)

FI-ance: "God! What the Hell is wrong with you?"

citygirl: "Huh? No, it's cool...Look!" (yet another nail presented and then dropped on the floor)

FI-ance: "Don't...My God, don't put them on the floor!"

citygirl: "Why not?"

FI-ance: "Why? I don't know, it's just disgusting, that's all."

citygirl: "So, this bothers you? All the things that you don't think about at all, like the bathtub being dirty or dishes piling up in the sink or dirty clothes spilling out of the laundry baskets or farting on me when we're lying down, and these little toenails that you can't even see bug you?"

FI-ance: "That's just different. Could you try, please, to put those in the trash can or at least leave them on the floor in the bathroom instead of the living room?"

citygirl: "What if I hide them under the couch? So that whenever we move there'll just be a huge pile of toenails falling out from this secret spot where they were once contained?"

FI-ance: "Honey..."

citygirl: "Wait! What if I figure out a way to keep them suspended in mid-air so you can always see and avoid them? Huh...Huh?"

FI-ance: "God. You have no soul."

Can you tell we had an interesting Friday?

Bitch Day

Oh, man. Sunday was not good to ol' citygirl.

I woke up after a late night of Buffy and Nip/Tuck watching with FI-ance right before 11am. Did the bathroom thing and then tried sleeping a little bit more. It wasn't happening and for some reason my mind did something it hasn't done in a long while: it began to dwell on all the crap in my life that's unfinished.

There are all these things I want to be better at, more ambitious about, that I started to tally up. Making friends, keeping friends, losing weight and keeping it off, decorating for Christmas, keeping the house clean, being more crafty, spending less money, finding a better job, getting my sideline jobs off the ground, cooking more often, finishing my screenplay...

I ended up getting out of bed crying around 11:30am. The rest of the day was mostly a wash. Random irritation and anger and crying. Even with FI-ance trying really hard to cheer me up, get me talking and help out. He was so desperate that he did two loads of laundry and emptied and loaded the dishwasher...WITHOUT BEING ASKED.

citygirl: "I'm just having a bitch day."

FI-ance: "But why? I don't think the store's closing (his phrase for my monthly lady time)."

citygirl: "That doesn't always have something to do with it."

FI-ance: "Man...That'd make it so much easier."

citygirl: "You ain't shittin' kitten."

Dammit, Cat!

The holidays are a joyous time, aren't they? Tinsel and bulbs and pretty lights and things all a-glitter.

I just have one question for you folks. How in the Hell do I keep my damn Tux cat away from the Christmas tree? In the past two weeks since we put that thing up he has tried to: eat it, climb it, push it over, pull it down, jump it and continues to remove ornaments at an alarming rate.

This just proves my theory: Tux really is the devil. And he hates Christmas and wants to destroy our holiday cheer.

Fluffy fucking devil...

Yeah, That's Not What I Wanted to Hear

So, internet. Remember when I was all freaked out about my review at work? Well, at the end of October when I got paid and saw that I had no raise I went to MS, my department boss, and asked about it. He told me he was waiting to put my review paperwork in until after I talked to my new supervisor and made a work plan for the year and he had seen it. I thought, ok, that sounds reasonable.

Well, we got paid again recently. I still had no raise for the year. I went to MS again on Tuesday to see what was up. You know what was up? I'm not getting a raise, that's what's up.

Two things really piss me straight the fuck off about this. One? It's like this past year never happened...to them. I, on the other hand have been subjected to dealing with the dregs of society on a daily basis, getting up at un-Godly hours for no good reason, volunteering at events that have me up at 6 fucking am on Saturday, filing when my back hurts and I get nothing extra in return for it. Two? MS, who I thought was a cool, smart guy of integrity, flat out lied to me. Yes, it was a lie of omission, but a lie none the less.

When I went into his office this week and was all "where's my raise?" he looked at me like I was a total idiot. The review was basically finalized with YOU NEED TO DO BETTER. I thought a lot of points in the review were bullshit. Which I explained in my written and signed rebuttle. I got a good work plan for the year together with my new supervisor and have been given some more interesting duties on an as-needed basis that I am actually excited about. none of this made a difference though. No more money for citygirl.

He said it was about the whole review. I asked why my rebuttle had no affect on this decision, he only responded that "well, everybody saw it." Most importantly, I asked why we didn't talk about this whole no raise thing during my review. His response? "Well, I guess it didn't come up." And then he stared at me like a fucking dolt.

Does anybody want to know why I didn't bring it up? Because, I figured since the review was kinda bad I'd only be getting a mere cost of living increase. So, no reason to really discuss that. It didn't occur to me that I'd get nothing at all.

Now, have you ever gotten totally shitty work news and then tried to resume working? Exactly, internet...Not. Fucking. Easy. I worked but I was so angry. Mostly at myself for even still working at this place after 9 Goddammed years.



Now the job search is on. FOR REAL.

Ummm...Meaty

FI-ance ate 3 whole Arby's Roast Beef Sammiches and 1 Arby's Ham Sammich last night. There is no doubt in my mind that I will wake up one day next to a 4-foot boner attached to a pile of cooked, sliced meat.

No. Doubt. At. All.

Eventfulness

Sat 11/17- The beginning of me and FI-ance's triple celebration week: our anniversary, my birthday and Tux's (that's right, the cat) birthday. We spent most of the morning and early afternoon driving and walking around Ellisville, Eureka and Kirkwood taking pictures of fall foliage. We got some really good shots. It's something I've never done before but really felt a pull for it this year. I used my Canon S3IS and my new lomo Diana+ medium format film camera. Getting used to not seeing how my shot will turn out after a little more than two years of digital shooting is taking some work!

After quick showers, we headed out to our local Funny Bone. We'd never been and hadn't heard of the guys but both comedy acts were really good. It felt oddly wonderful to laugh along with a group of strangers. There was a two drink minimum. I got a soda and a strawberry margarita. I'm not much of a drinker, but that thing (which came in a huge beer stein, by the by) was HELLA GOOD.

This may have been the most full day we've spent together since our first/second date.

Mon 11/19- This was my 33rd Birthday. And yes, I know that wasn't supposed to be capitalized but I'm leavin' it anyway! I share my birthday with my friend TC at work, so our department treated us to lunch at a favorite local Thai place, Sen. SOOOOOO GOOD. I believe they might have the best crab rangoon ever in the history of the universe. And the little fried corn patties? I'm dying just thinking about them...

FI-ance left work early so we could have a good long night out. I had no idea where I wanted to eat dinner. You know how you want to try something different, but desperately want to make sure you have something really fuckin' amazing to eat? That was me Monday night. FI-ance suggested The Cheesecake Factory and it immediately sounded perfect. We went all out: appetizer, two entrees (though mine was a salad), and a shared dessert of Key Lime Cheesecake. Between lunch and dinner I think this was the best-fed birthday I've ever had. Yea, food!

Post appetizer and pre-entree FI-ance gave me my Birthday/Anniversary gift. Oh God, internet. HE. DID. SO. GOOD. I got one of those "forever" necklaces with a trail of diamonds drizzling down the pendant. How many diamonds? Well, it took my mom to think of counting them on Wednesday, but there's SEVEN. As my grandmother remarked from across the room that same night, "I can see them from here...And I can't even see!"

Our absolute favorite movie theater is right near the CF, so we headed upstairs to see Beowulf. FI-ance and I both liked it, and after seeing it and reading a graphic novel version of the story that played a bit differently, we both want to read a more faithful translation to see how everything was originally written.

Wed 11/21- I took the day off work to go to my mom's early and get the cooking done. Usually what I do is head over in the evening and spend the night as we cook and watch bad cable tv. I wanted to change the tradition a bit by going to her place in the morning, then heading home in time for FI-ance to get back from work. I really wanted us to do our Christmas decorating that night, but of course there was a glitch. My driver's license expired on Monday. I didn't look at the little reminder they sent me until Thursday night and realized I needed my birth certificate. I ordered it online Friday (I could have just walked down to the records office at lunch, but, you know, why make things easy on myself?) and was stuck at home waiting for it to be delivered Wednesday morning...And afternoon. I talked to my mom and she relayed the info that I had a full 30 days to renew my license. What? Why didn't the card say that!? Here I was panicking and having FI-ance drive me around on Tuesday, when I could have been on my merry way. DMV suckers.

They finally delivered my birth certificate at about 3:30pm. I made it to the license place 45 minutes before they closed. One odd thing about me? I've always taken good license photos. I don't know how, but I do. Well, I did, anyway. because I was greeted this time by a newbie license photo-taker dude. On the first shot he took the pic while I was adjusting my bra strap. And the do-over? Fuck, my streak is over. I look like the first Black female serial killer in recorded history. And my head is HUGE! If the photo square was the size of a computer screen my head still wouldn't look appropriately proportioned. And my hair is fucked up, even though I did the best I could with it. Dammit. Now I've got seven fucking years with this retarded, scary-ass photo. Shitshit. SHIT.

Thanksgiving 11/22- I didn't leave mom's until 2:15 Thursday morning. FI-ance and I were running late to get back there for lunch, but we all got a surprise visit from my godmother when we got to mom's. After a couple hours we headed west for his family dinner. We finally got home about 1 am.

Black Friday 11/23- You don't think I actually got up at 2 am to go shopping, do you? Because I slept most of the day. And it was wonderful!

I hope everyone had a blast on Thanksgiving!!

What Happens When I'm Bored, Tired, Hungry and In A Pissy Mood?

I realize that the NBA playoffs and championship have no nickname. I don't like basketball, but let's be clear, the ballers deserve a nickname, don't they?

So, in an effort to do my part to support a game that bores the crap outta me, here is my list of possible names for said championship.

1) Ballathon!
2) Balltopia!
3) The Festival of Balls!
4) Superballs!
5) Ballorama!
6) Ball Fest!
7) Ballers Delight!
8) Hustleballs!
9) Ball Summit!

And last but not least, my favorite...

10) BALLS!

I do say. I'm quite creative when I know food is on the way.

Have a great weekend!!

All the News That's Fit to Print (Online)

- I think I have a repetitive stress injury. My right shoulder/arm has been bugging me for over two weeks. I've been getting these shooting muscle spasm-like pains that sometimes make my hand shake. It's weird, painful and irritating. At first I had neck issues there too, and figured I'd just "slept wrong" like I sometimes do. But while at work last Friday, I realized how much I reach and stretch and lift with my right arm, and I think that may be the problem. The way my desk is set up now there's more room for crap on the right so that's where I had to put everything. Since I'm still on the shit list for being late all the time I guess a worker's comp filing wouldn't be in my best interest, huh?

- We had a new couch delivered this weekend. What's insane is that it looked like it was basically the same size as my now retired Ikea couch when we were in the store, but once it was in the house we realized how absolutely massive it is. All the other furniture looks like it belongs in a doll house! We were afraid at first that the deliverin' men wouldn't be able to get it inside. They had no luck with the front door and the back doors are even smaller. THEY HAD TO TAKE OUR FRONT WINDOWS OUT. Really. It was quite a sight. Thank God we have a big picture window in the living room. Wanna know what makes me kinda sad? I bought that Ikea couch on a road trip to the Schaumberg, Illinois store with my mom. That $200 couch made my single-life living room an actual room. I was sad to see it go, especially since we put the frame outside (kept the cushions I just got covers for in March) and the poor thing has been rained on twice! I was really hoping someone would snatch it up before it got all natured on. Dammit. On a positive note, though, the new couch KICKS ABSOLUTE ASS! It's so plush and huge and comfy. We broke it in by eating special grilled cheese (swiss and cheddar cheese with fresh herbs) and watching the first season of Curb Your Enthusiasm.

- My stomach is bugging me again. I'm still using various digestive-helping foods to stave off major problems, but I don't think it's enough anymore. I am actually going to have to see that gasterointerologist about my tummy troubles. I hate making doctor's appointments. And going to new doctors is even worse. We'll see how it goes.

- Speaking of fresh herbs...I made homemade tomato soup last Monday and am still farting rosemary. I'm sorry internet, that was very sudden rude bathroom talk, but it has to be said. I see now that I need to be careful with the real rosemary. I made the mistake of putting some in my pasta for lunch yesterday and had the pleasure of then farting and burping rosemary. So, from now on we're talking like, four little leaves of the stuff and that's it. Otherwise someone is destined to die from the fumes.

- I have a dentist's appointment today. I've been going to the same dentist since I was literally a tiny kid. I'm well known throughout the practice for never having any cavities. I fear that this is about to change. About three months ago I noticed a small black depression on the side of one of my perfect teeth. It doesn't hurt and it hasn't gotten any bigger, but I think it must be the start of a cavity. Oh God! I hope this doesn't require any cutting, drilling or pulling. Fuckin' hormones changing my body chemistry...

One Friday, Not Long Ago

"I can't believe we're going to bed at 10:30 at night on a Friday."

"Yeah, I know. We're boring."

"But, we did have sex first."

"Yay! We're still cool!" (snore)

The Funniest Thing That Has Ever Happened to Someone Who Is Not Me

"Oh...Oh God! OH GOD!"

"FI-ance? What's going on?"

"I thought I stepped on an old grape so I picked it up."

"...And?"

"It wasn't a grape. It was more like..."

Silence
"Like...?"

"Cat poop."

(With bugged out eyes)"You mashed cat doody with your bare foot? And then touched it bare-handed? WAHHAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAAHAHAAA!!!"

Trying to Recap Heroes for FI-ance at Denny's Monday Night

"So, Nawhlins girl was walking with the little boy..."

"Micah"

"Yeah, him. And he was trying to get her to enjoy her powers. There was a guy on a skateboard doing crazy stuff and some guys playing basketball. One of them did that thing...You know."

"What thing?"

"You know. This (flipping hand motion)...Come on, this thingie (more flipping hand motion)."

"Uh...A 360 degree layup?"

"What? No! This (again with the hand) right here."

Silence.
"A...dunk? He dunked the ball?"

"Yeah!"

"What kind of Black person are you?"

"I'm throwing my hot coffee on you now..."

Does the World Want Me to Go Postal?!

So, the good news is that I didn't get fired. The review wasn't exactly good, but there is hope. What I really want to talk about today is what happened yesterday, Monday October 15 2007.

I was in great shape yesterday morning. I got up when my clock went off, got ready in a truly timely fashion, and was headed to my car slightly before 8am. I hit my shoulder when I got in the car, it felt kinda low when I sat down but didn't think much of it. As I started to pull away from the curb I heard a scraping noise. I figured there was a can or something stuck under my wheel and kept going. Hmmm...more scraping. So I stopped the car I got out to see what could possibly be wrong now. (I'd just gotten my car back from a short trip to the mechanic on Saturday. Something was rattling underneath when I idled. Turns out some kind of cap was broken and had to be replaced.)

WHAT. THE. FUCK!!!!! Some asswipebuttfucker stole my rear driver's side wheel, tire, hubcap, and lug nuts. So that scraping I heard? Yeah, that was the sound of my brake rotor being driven on. Do we all understand what's happened? Lila, whom I park RIGHT IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE IN THE GHETTO, was jacked up and violated at some point on Sunday night WHILE FI-ANCE AND I SLEPT IN OUR HOUSE A FEW FEET AWAY.

I was so very angry that I believe I may have turned into The Incredible Hulk for a few brief minutes. I got my things out of the car, turned the ignition off and made my way back inside to call the police, my supervisor at work, my insurance company and FI-ance.

The cops took HALF AN HOUR to get to me. Granted, it wasn't an emergency and I'm sure someone was being horribly injured somewhere when I called, but dammit! Evidence is blowing away as I sit here fuming and twiddling my thumbs! Wait...that's right, there was no evidence. Not a fingerprint to be found was left on Lila. Of course none of my hard-partying, hard-drinking, probably drug addicted neighbors saw anything. According to my friend TC's husband (he's a mechanic) this thorough theft process would have taken about TWENTY MINUTES. Right outside my front door. Lucky, lucky me.

I called FI-ance. He apologized for not noticing when he left for work before me. Why should he have noticed? I mean, I started driving before I noticed, because, golly you guys, I'd always assumed I'd have WHEELS ON MY CAR AND SHIT. Now, every time either of us returns to our cars anywhere we're going to feel compelled to check to make sure we have tires. That, friends, IS UTTERLY FUCKING RIDICULOUS.

As I talked to FI-ance I almost started to cry. You know when you get so angry and fed up and frustrated but there's no one in the immediate vicinity for you to punish for what's happened? That's the kind of crying I was in for. I somehow managed to hold it off until several hours later.

I told FI-ance I was done. The neighborhood can go straight to Hell for all I care. I am officially tired of the noise, the trash in our yard, the random strangers walking through the front and back yards at all hours, the general disrespect of other people, the walking and congregating in the actual street where only cars should be, the car keying, the chewed-food spitting, the delivery-people abuse and, oh yes, how can I forget the FOUR FUCKING CHILD MURDERS that have occurred since we moved in. God Dammit, you fucking immature, imbecilic, criminal bastards!!! Can anybody give me one good reason not to raze the whole fucking pit of despair?! Just ONE reason?!!!

My sweet, angered FI-ance showed up right after the cop left. He found out I had free towing with my insurance and we called a place recommended by our mechanic. It took them AN HOUR AND A HALF to get to me. Thank fucking God I wasn't stranded on the side of the road at night in the cold. In order for the tow guy to get the spare on he had to take two lugnuts off a front tire. We are both now having our cars outfitted with locking lugnuts.

FI-ance and I both feel punched in the gut. We honestly thought we'd done what we needed to in order to make a smart buy. We had just gotten settled and now we feel we have to abandon ship. The chances of selling the place on the market is pretty small, because of, you know, the child murders and pizza lady rapings. We're trying to get one of those companies that buys houses in any condition to take our first home off our hands at the full price we paid for it so we can make a clean getaway. We're also considering car alarms, The Club, and home security systems.

Another tragedy associated with this whole thing? As FI-ance and I watched the tow guy get my car off his truck at the mechanic I noticed a huge grasshopper in front of us. FI-ance was marveling at the hopper's size and many hoppy colors when tow guy pulled around in my car, hopperson jumps up to avoid the car, hit himself on my bumper and bounced off, landing just in time to get squished by one of my tires. Oh, God the carnage was really unsettling. And you know I'm not a bug/insect lover, but dammit! Hoppy McHopperson was this close to making a clean getaway. If some jerkoff hadn't stolen my wheel that grasshopper would still be alive people. Think about that!

A Thing That Could Go Badly

So, I've got my review at work coming up tomorrow. It was supposed to be today, but I got an email this morning from my current supervisor asking if we could do it Friday instead. Since my anniversary was August 24, and I haven't gotten my raise yet this troubles me a bit. I think I went to bed early last night because of the very mild stress this is causing. I fell asleep, right out of the shower, at 10:30pm. I NEVER go to sleep that early. I also had a nightmare, but we can talk about that later.


Things have been tense around here for the past month or so. Mine is a department of four people and we were overloaded with special projects, bad surprises and daily crap. Why could my review go badly? Here, let's make a list...


1) A woman I've had issues with has been made my supervisor. I understand why my current supervisor, nice guy MS, has done this. He's seriously overworked, currently doing three people's jobs, and needed to get some pressure off. He and the big boss don't get along, he's dealing with several health issues and he's got three-year-old twins at home. MS is stressed. He needed to not have to deal with something. This woman isn't a horrible person or anything. She's just very..."Hey, let's all give %210 and make this the best office ever!" While I'm more like, "How do I get through another workday without vomiting or beating someone senseless..."

2) That woman I mentioned above? I yelled at her, after she knew she was my supervisor but before I knew it. This was a couple of weeks ago, guys. Me and FI-ance had been sick all weekend and had both taken Monday off. I came in to work only for a half day that Tuesday to try to complete a special project by that Friday's deadline. I told her this and she gave me stink eye. I ignored it. MS came in and I cleared leaving at noon with him, so no problem, right? I got done with my goal for the day, processing 210 contract files in 3 1/2 hours. I was quite proud of myself. I was about to leave. She says, "I know you need to get those done, but we really need to stay on top of the new..." I cut her off, "I know that. I told you I was just coming in to catch up on the project. I don't feel good. I'm leaving." With that I walked out. Yeah, that could come back to haunt me.


3) The big boss has never really liked me and I feel I may be creeping to the top of his list again. Here's the thing about the big boss - he loves to blame and take out his frustrations on random employees. And if you've happened to have really done something wrong...Look out, Homer! Your life is about to become Hell. So, years ago now, I did something wrong and stupid and was allowed to keep my job. But, the big boss never forgets. Once he feels you've wronged him you are always on his list. Your position on that list is the only thing that changes. Why would I be heading back to the top of his hit list? I have admitted to this being a "job" as opposed to a "career" (the big boss takes many things personally that have nothing to do with him...personally), I used to hang out with SW and DS (two employees wildly hated by the big boss-he is a firm believer in guilt by association), I had the occasional package delivered to work (which he told MS to tell me to stop once he noticed it), and...God only knows what else is bugging him that I don't even know about. This is a man who refuses to hire qualified people if he doesn't like their hair. Their hair!!

I've decided that if I happen to get fired tomorrow I will simply get my shit and go quietly. I will not be one of those people who curse and scream and degrade themselves when they get fired. We have seen a lot of those here and I won't be added to the list.

Exhilaration Fear Joy Dread Apologies

You know that high you get from shopping? Man, I've had that in full force for the past week.

Last Friday I was stressed. Work has been almost unbearable for the past month (more on that in a future post) and I hadn't done any serious shopping in quite a while. So, I was on a break last Friday afternoon...ok, technically I was answering the phone for the receptionist while she took her break, but I kinda felt that nagging retail-therapy frenzy start to build in my tummy. So, I used her computer to buy cheap jewelry from Forever 21. I spent thirty bucks on crap I didn't need and it felt really fucking good.

Oh, but I didn't stop there! I left my radically depressing job and headed straight for my local Old Navy and dove into their sale racks. I found a tan pea coat jacket for $16 and bought a shit load of blouses and tee shirts. My huge bag of loot totaled a little over $80. I had to put it on my (supposedly emergency only) credit card. But dammit it made me happy.

I swear, internet, I thought I was done. Then, I changed purses over last weekend. I was excited to carry this new turquoise-y blue bag I'd gotten in the spring but hadn't used yet. Unfortunately, by today I'd realized it sucked donkey-butt. It's too short and squat. I went on ebay during an unofficial work break this morning looking for a similarly colored Marc Jacobs knockoff I've been eyeing for a few months.

Well, lo and behold. I type in "blue" in the handbag search and found a gorgeous bag from a seller I'd never seen before. I put it on my watch list. I decide to peruse their site. OMG!!! Look at that red bag! It's all suede-y and lizard-y and I can fit my camera and other crap in it. Watching it. Wait, look at this purple one...

I'm a beast of consumerism. I got all caught up in the "buy it now" craze and bought THREE purses this morning. Grand total? $137.47. That's the most I've ever spent in one shopping spree not attached to an Ikea or involving furniture. I immediately began to think of ways to set my karma straight, especially considering that my mom's birthday is tomorrow and I HAVE YET TO BUY HER GIFT. I've thought of at least three other purses I can give away to make up for my insanity today.

There's a ton of other stuff I want to buy: house stuff, camera stuff, jewelry, books, music, magazines, dvds...But I can now safely say that the frenzy, she is gone.

Best News of the Week

You know how sometimes the phone rings and it sounds frantic? We had a ring like that last night. FI-ance's cell rang, then my cell rang. It was the ring I'd set up for his parents, all flowery and classical. With his grandmother in a nursing home he figured he better call them back, and as soon as he picked up his phone the frantic ringing started again.

None of that is the good news. The good, amazing, shocking, wonderfully relieving news is that his parents HAVE DECIDED TO HELP US PAY FOR THE WEDDING!!!!

I think we're both still kinda in shock. We've been officially engaged since May and assumed by now that they weren't going to offer. A few months back FI-ance got pissy about them not offering, actually. Once I diffused his (in my opinion unnecessary) displeasure, we both forgot about it. We set a budget of $2,000 and I set to reading everything bridal ever created in the entire universe.

According to his mom they've been considering making the offer for a while, especially since they "try to keep it even between children" with their financial backing. Apparently they are contributing to the college fund of FI-ance's niece and felt they should do something for us too.

Internet? Can you believe how much stress this relieves for us? Knowing that, if there's something we really want for our wedding day that's a bit beyond our means, we can lean on his folks for financial support? We are floored and grateful.

Also, FI-ance's mom was excited that this meant she wouldn't have to think of what to get us for Christmas. Way to multi-task Mama FI-ance!

Surprises

I hope everybody enjoyed their weekend. Mine actually didn't make me want to kill people.

Friday was cool. I got my big work project done, my Godmommy called me and FI-ance sent me flowers. The Godmommy was in town to see family and because we were supposed to go wedding dress shopping. I had just sent her an email saying I wasn't ready when she called. Apparently Godmommies are smart like regular mommies because she realized awhile ago that I wasn't prepared for the dress thing without me even telling her.

I had told FI-ance about two months ago that he was going to have to start sending me flowers at work. I gave him a list of the types of flowers I liked and even emailed some visual aids to him. Many good occasions for flower giving have come and gone since then and I swear, guys, I thought I was gonna have to beat some flowers outta the boy. Then, right before I went to lunch on Friday I got a buzz from our receptionist, LC. A surprise delivery always makes me happy, but this made me squeal. FI-ance did really good; he gifted me with gerbera daises in three shades of pink!

Fridays have officially regained their coolness.

Saturday was basically good. We took Tux to the vet to get his rabies vaccine. This was after taking him two weeks earlier and not being able to get it done because Tux bit the holy-ever-loving-shit out of FI-ance while we were there. The vet found out and had to file some kind a rabies report and Tux had to be quarantined in our house. Yay! We got that done, had lunch at amazing local pizza place Fortel's (I'd never been before; definitely check them out if you're ever in St. Louis) and then started to get ready for my friend JS's wedding.

That's where things got a bit tricky. FI-ance and I almost always have to use the bathroom at the same time since we usually eat together. The problem is that we only have one bathroom of any kind in the house. Due to my stomach issues this year and his stomach issues this past week...well, we both had to do the same thing, but his urge hit a few minutes before mine. Thus, I was left pacing and sweating throughout the house.

I was trying to figure out how to sit in our mostly empty trash can when I heard him flush. Oh Sweet Glorious Jesus, thank you!! I rushed in before FI-ance had gotten to washing his hands and he was horrified. "Hang on...I just...haven't...oh God..." "Just don't look!" I pulled the shower curtain around me so he could pretend it wasn't happening. Worked for me, but I think FI-ance has been permanently scarred...

We now had about 20 minutes to get ready for the wedding. This was no longer going to work. I had to make the hard decision to skip the wedding and only head to the reception so that we'd both have time to get scrubbed and polished and ready for public viewing.

My stupid stomach started acting up at the reception and we left full of fried chicken and cake by 9pm.

Sunday was a sneezy, sleepy day. The weather was great and I was able to return to the basement and do a few loads of laundry. We ate leftover Fortel's, watched season 1 of Veronica Mars, Sunday night Fox cartoons and had a late dinner of Taco Bell. It was so great to stay the fuck at home for once on a weekend day.

Can't wait to do it again this weekend.

My Weekend Sucked

Actually, every weekend in September has been sorta sucky because the activities just never stop. We always have somewhere we HAVE to go and need to get up early for. And in case you weren't sure, early for FI-ance and me on the weekend is anytime before 2pm.

Back to this weekend. I had an event at work that required waking up at--wait for it...6am. That's not a typo, people. The sun wasn't even up yet! Christ the Living Lord that's freakin' early!! FI-ance was committed to going with me and he was not happy at all about the get-up time. Especially since he wasn't feeling so good and hadn't for a couple of days. But, he did, even though I released him of his stand-by-your-woman duty, and I'm really proud of him.

This event required sitting in the sun at a local park from 7am until 10:30am. I thought I would have a tent and was not pleased with the whole sun-beating-down-on-me thing. But, I remained calm and pleasant. We left when FI-ance complained of stomach problems.

Turns out his belly wasn't the only thing bugging him, he ended up feverish, having chills that shook his whole body, severe abdominal pain and constipation. This was particularly fun to deal with once I developed a runny nose, sneezyness, mild nose bleeds, achy muscles, lethargy and mild diarrhea. So, we were both ill, the house is a mess, the yard looks like a forest and dirty, sick-people clothes are overflowing out of the laundry baskets.

After our wasted weekend neither of us felt much better on Monday. FI-ance announced that his "poopy parts hurt", and even though we were sent into fits of laughter by this non-funny fact, we knew we both needed to stay home.

I got dizzy every time I stood up, but tried desperately to get some laundry done. And what was my reward for this? A snake in the basement. Holy Hell, people! Can I get a brake, please? I had to call FI-ance down to look at it and see if I was indeed correct in my assumption, since it was all coiled up funny. I thought it was dead for a second because I blew on it and it didn't move (I know...real scientific). Then I turned away, and looking back noticed that it's snake-head had moved. Blahhhhhhhhhh!!!!!! Run! Get the cat! Hide! Grab it FI-ance! Do something!

We both ran upstairs, me to get as far away with Tux as possible and FI-ance to put on long sleeves, full pants, boots and utility gloves to hopefully not get bitten. Of course, snake didn't make it easy. When we got back downstairs it was gone from its previous position. I spotted it snaking its way behind the washing machine (thanks, God), and FI-ance used one of those old-people-can't-bend grabber things to catch it and throw it into the yard. I wanted him to put it into the empty lot behind us. He reminded me that "it can get through the links in the fence if it wants to, you know." I reminded him that "that is totally not the point. Not even a little bit."

I'm a bit scared to go into the basement now, even though I know the chance of the same or another snake appearing is probably slim (it's not like we live in the country). The real question is how much longer I can deal with dirty clothes littering the hall, thereby avoiding entrance to our own personal snake pit?

Bad Blogger

OK, I know it's been over a month. Don't kill me internet denizens! I've been busy, sick and devoid of inspiration. Soon, all will be well again...

Fighting is Difficult

It started as a simple question. "Could you load the dishwasher?" I didn't think I'd made an unrealistic request. But, apparently, FI-ance thought differently. There was some under-breath grumbling of "OK" which I heard, disliked and decided to say something about.

"What's the problem? I unloaded and I asked you nicely to load. Why is it that every time I ask you to do something around the house you give me attitude about it?"

I was yelling from the living room, but I could hear more grumbling in response. And, I got really, seriously pissed. I put down my laptop, muted Access Hollywood on tv and went into the kitchen. I stood in the doorway.

"I don't understand. Don't you live in this house too? I would appreciate not getting attitude from you whenever I ask you to do something. You mow the lawn once every two weeks, but I do all the mopping, sweeping, dusting, laundry, vacuuming, straightening and bathroom cleaning. Guess what? You fucking dirty dishes too. I clean your dirty drawers. You take showers and walk on the floor and shit in the toilet too. How about fucking helping out a little bit?"

He protested a bit, and was obviously angry, but I think I scare him when I'm mad, so he didn't get too many words in. I walked away, sat back down at my laptop and continued with my trash tv.

We did not speak for an hour.

Then he started to put away his clean clothes (something I'd asked him to do the day before, by the way), as if to head off another attack. He was actually getting angrier. I went into the office to put my laptop away and start getting ready for bed. FI-ance was in there folding clothes. I was mostly ok now, so I opened the lines of communication.

"So, you still mad at me?"

"Well, I don't know."

"That sounds like a yes to me."

"Well, I really didn't like the way you talked to me. I don't ever want to fucking be talked to like that."

See? That right there got me angry all over again. He doesn't like how I spoke to him? A burst of fury shot through my body so great that it actually made me laugh out loud at the idea.

"Really? The only reason I talked to you like that is because I'd been disrespected. So, I responded in kind. If a child had spoken to you the way you answered me, you would have been equally as upset."

FI-ance gritted his teeth. But he was still folding...

"I worked fucking 12 hour days last week! What about that? You "got attitude" from me, whatever. It got done. I did it. I said I was sorry. What difference does it make?"

He threw a sock and started yelling. This is getting good.

"Don't even pull that. Before you came close to working all that overtime you gave me the same bullshit attitude when I asked you to do stuff. I do four fucking loads of laundry, running up and down the stairs, and when I ask you to put ONLY YOUR CLOTHES away you get bitchy about it. I expect you to care about this fucking house because you live here too. And the fact that I have to even ask you to do this shit is fucking ridiculous. That's the difference it makes. And, if you say you're sorry then act in the same fucked up way time and again, sorry don't mean shit."

I felt it coming on. Yeah, there it goes. I'm crying.

"You didn't like how I talked to you? I didn't like how you responded to me. I don't like being disrespected. I don't like being diminished. I don't like what I do here being ignored. How about that?"

I walked out and started getting ready for bed.

We didn't talk for another half hour.

Then, I was in the bathroom and sneezed. I heard a "Bless you" come from the bedroom. Wow, look who's not so fucking fired up anymore.

I got into bed and we talked by the light of Scrubs reruns on my little purple tv. I made him feel like a child. He's never been good at chores. His mom got on him about the same things. His grumbled response earlier was him holding back because he knew he was becoming irrationally angry at being asked to help out. He's knows he was a jerk wad. He's realized that I do pretty much everything around the house. He's sorry. He'll try to do better.

He talked about work again and how tired it makes him. I mentioned that it's not 1890 and I go to work too and still somehow manage to get things done at home.

FI-ance begged me not to gloat. I said I had no plans to. He said he couldn't promise he wouldn't slip up. I promised to try to remind him gently, but I also told him that the more attitude I get from him about this crap the more he needs to expect in return. I don't ever plan to let that shit go.

We kissed and said goodnight and, basically, made up.

Recently...

1) I've realized that the shirt I wore today is simply too tight. I think I may need to Goodwill it. Also, the shirt is red and my pants are green. I thought about this briefly before leaving the house and decided I didn't care. Now I've changed my mind.

2) Becoming addicted to home/design blogs. I blame the wedding stuff for leading me into the dark pit of designery. Where I never have enough money to buy or time to make the beautiful things they show me. Damn them!

3) I miss cooking. It's too fucking hot to turn the oven on repeatedly and hours at a time. Where's Fall when you need her.

4) Speaking of cooking, I've found what I believe could be the recipe for my wedding cake. Originally I was set on a split lemon cake with cream cheese frosting, and this recipe adds blueberries to the mix. I plan to make it this weekend. I'll let you know how it turns out.

5) Those damn design blogs. All of those bloggers are real crafty and now I've got a hankering for making stuff. The desire was heightened by a visit to FI-ance's workplace, where he does computer tech for an elementary school. We had to go in the art room, oh God. I had forgotten the smell of paints, pastels and charcoal. I loved it as a kid and that visit Monday night brought it all back to me. I cleaned out the desk that FI-ance's grandmother willed to him then filled it with my artsy stuff. I need a desk pad sturdy enough for crafts and to get my inspiration board up. Then, I'll have an art corner in our office. I'm excited, but also worried that I'll disappoint myself if I don't regain the artiness of my childhood. My goal is to keep going even if that does happen.

6) Fi-ance works really hard at his job. Two weeks ago he worked several hours off the clock when he felt back-to-school duties piling up on him. We had an argument over the phone when he refused to ask for overtime pay because he didn't want to look incompetent. I thought to not at least ask was insane, especially considering that he was working 10 to 12 hours a day. I hung up on him, angry that I'd spend another night alone and we wouldn't even get extra cash out of it. I immediately felt bad and called him to apologize. He came home earlier than expected that night. Last week he bit the bullet and asked for overtime, he was told to take as much as he needed, I spent Friday and Monday night at work with him. Friday we left at 1:14 am (yes, Saturday morning) and Monday we were done a little after midnight. I love my hard-workin', money-makin' man!

7) Sweet Magical Jesus, it's outrageously hot outside. Temperatures have been over 100 degrees for several days and the humidity should be punishable by law. Our poor AC is running non-stop and has a really hard time keeping the house below 80 degrees. Seriously, I need Fall!

8) We have a huge list of things to accomplish around the house. Every time we take vacations from work we plan to get stuff done. We usually don't. Between the little everyday things (loading/unloading the dishwasher, vacuuming...), the big projects (caulk holes around the house, clean and paint the basement stairs, get more kitchen cabinets, a fence and better blinds) and trying to relax something always gets left behind.

9) I need to get out of town. FI-ance and I are planning to take vacation days on the last day of this month so we get a four day Labor Day weekend. We may head to Tulsa for a couple of those to fill up on Whataburger and Taco Cabana.

10) S.P., the other woman in my department at work, suggested I get a better headset for my phone. You know, so I can walk around and do other things while also talking to callers. Yeah, that's exactly what I want, Ms. Works-Through-Her-Lunch, to talk to crazy people on the phone even more during the day. Get a grip, bitch.

Wedding Schmedding (Part 2)

FI-ance will have all his credit card debt paid off in about 10 months. This is real cool for several reasons: he will be able to get his own credit card for when we have an emergency and need extra funds, we'll be able to throw more cash at my credit card debt, and, the biggie, we'll actually have more cash available for wedding stuff. Now, thankfully, my Godmommy has offered to pay for my dress and I've joyfully agreed. Not one to take advantage, I'm still sticking to designs that are $200 or less and am pleased to find that it's totally possible to do.

However, part of the reason FI-ance and I haven't been traipsing all over the St. Louis area looking at halls and such is that no matter how cheap (by comparison)a place is, it still seems outrageously expensive. Twenty-three dollars per person for chicken, mashed potatoes, a roll and some salad? Why are you trying to kill me? Or is it that you want me to kill you? Because, seriously? I'm tempted. That's just with the places that do their own catering. To have a reception in a spot that doesn't do their own food would cost at least $1,000. Did you hear that, internet? That's the price WITHOUT FOOD. And I've checked the unusual locations: parks, gardens, museums and planetariums. They want $2,000 to $3,000. That is ridiculous.

We could cut down on the cost by having a smaller gathering. Mostly this would mean not inviting everyone I work with, just the few that I really talk to often. But, this is the thing, I only work with 17 other people. How much bad will would I incite if I invite only, say, 6 of those people? Should I care? Does it matter that the office standard is to invite everybody or nobody from work? Again, do I care? Let's say they all come and bring somebody. That's 34 people that I may or may not want to feed and have get drunk on our dime. What to do, y'all...what to do...

Adding to this financial stress is FI-ance's (I think unfounded) irritation over his folks not offering to help us out. Let me explain the situation. About four years ago FI-ance had a job that literally drove him crazy - to the point where he needed to be medicated into a semblance of normalcy. He quit, because he couldn't take it anymore, without any other job prospects and no idea what to do next. Not wanting to go back into the same field (he was a journalist) and with little of his own savings he moved back in with his folks and went back to school. His folks paid for one year of college and took care of his bills as he went back to school and worked odd jobs here and there for spending money.

Now, I've explained to FI-ance that I think there are several reasons why he shouldn't get pissed at his peeps for not offering financial assistance: they took him in and paid for some schooling and all his bills while he figured himself out, maybe they haven't gotten around to it yet, he's 36 and I'm 32 - it's not their fault we don't have savings for this wedding thing, and, he has no idea what they have for retirement. It's entirely possible that they planned for 1 wedding and 1 college stint for each kid, so that when FI-ance went to school a second time it used up whatever wedding fund they may have had for him.

I think this all sounds perfectly reasonable, but FI-ance is still pissed that they haven't offered. He's all, "But I had a scholarship the first time around and they hardly had to pay anything and they asked me to move in with them when I went back to school and then held it over my head and I still owe them from that so aren't we even since they're not giving us money now?" What? To me, all that matters is that they've offered hands-on help with the planning, something my mom hasn't done.

Speaking of that. I know she's ultra preoccupied with taking care of my Grandmother, but she really doesn't seem interested in this wedding stuff at all. Thank God I'm not any more girly about it than I currently am or I'd be seriously hurt by her causualness. As it is, it hurts a bit anyway. For a few days I thought I'd found a dress on ebay. I told her and she didn't even ask what it looked like. She just goes "Oh, so what if you lose weight?" She hasn't asked to see dress ideas or offered to call wedding/reception sites. I brought her over to the house a couple of weekends ago and showed her the dress options I've gotten so far, even the ones she said she liked she didn't seem happy about.

Someone at work that I talked to about this mentioned that since mom got divorced herself she may be nervous about the whole idea. It's a good point, and something that I hadn't thought of, but all I really want is for her to show some interest. I don't think that's too much.

I've handled all this by registering at Target, Home Depot, Macy's and JC Penney and shopping without consequence. My goal now is to register wherever they give you free stuff for registering. The search is on.

Wedding Schmedding (Part 1)

So, I bet you wanna know where I've been the past couple of weeks. I've been knee deep in all sorts of wedding crap. And yet, have accomplished nothing. No, really. We still don't know where we're having this shindig. FI-ance and I haven't tasted cakes or caterer's food options or visited any wedding/reception halls. The most proactive I've been with this stuff is to buy too many wedding magazine (I'd originally told myself I'd only get two and then find everything else out online...ha!), get sucked into a gabillion wedding sites and amass a hugess pile of pages ripped from magazines for ideas (a pile that is taking over my once neat home office desk and living room table).

I made the mistake of going into David's Bridal two Saturdays ago. You know what I've discovered? I am the natural enemy of bridal shops. It's not like I've never been in one before, I was a bridesmaid in 2001 and had to take a couple of fittings in one, but somehow this was different. I didn't like it at all. There was too much white everywhere (I know...duh) and it wasn't arranged like a normal store. Plus, they pissed me off because they only had about 5 chubby girl dresses in my size and they were all oogley...you know, puffy and trainy and froofy and shit. Thanks David's Bridal. That's exactly what I need. A dress that will make me look like I weigh 342lbs instead of 242lbs. Whew! I didn't think ANYBODY would understand (assholes)!

I left, with FI-ance in tow of course, in a huff. It was all too bridey, with a capital B.R.I.D.E. Also irritating me? There was a skinny bitch on some pedestal trying on a really pretty dress. Her stomach was flat and she probably wasn't even in a girdle. Fucker.

I was convinced I should never set foot in another bridal store for my own wedding again. I went home, ordered this dress from Lane Bryant and was happy. Then I checked my email. My dearest Godmommy wrote me and offered to buy my dress and go shopping with me. My cold, anti-bride heart melted. I replied with an enthusiastic "Yes, thank you so much Godmommy!!" and decided to keep the dress that was on the way just in case I need to go to the Oscars or something.

Pray for the bridal shops, people. I'll be there in September.

Life Sucks, Then You Pay Taxes, Shit and Die...Or Something Like That (Part 2)

I did some checking. Wanna know why nobody likes to deliver to my 'hood? A pizza delivery lady was sexually assaulted, beaten and mugged here just over a year ago. Goddammit! Of course I'd heard of it, but I didn't realize it was my specific new neighborhood that it happened in. Also? A cop was shot and killed here around the same time. Also again? Our particular neighborhood in a really classy, upper-middle class section of St. Louis has always had a bad rep. I grew up several miles from here, how the hell was I supposed to know that?

We thought we'd done all the checking we needed to. The average income is about the same as ours, the crime stats were about the same as the area I lived in for over eight years. We never thought to ask if any cops had been murdered in the area.

But wait, that's not all! We've dealt with many minor indignities that lead us to believe that there's still a general "I don't give a fuck about anybody else" attitude around. People (adults even!) constantly walk through our yard. At 1am on July 5, actually, we were getting home from some festivities and unloading FI-ance's car. A guy about 20-25 years old walked past us. FI-ance said "good evening." Do you know that punk ass bitch didn't even look at FI-ance? He put his head down, said nothing, walked through our yard with us standing there watching him and then jumped our back fence! Shit, people! Things like this is why FI-ance has left the poison ivy on the fence. I hope that man now has poison ivy burns on his ballsack.

That same week we had our cars keyed (FI-ance has only had his since February). We've had to deal with "the yardbirds", a group of party people who for some reason need to blast music at all hours, stand in the front yard next to us, take up our parking spaces (we don't have a garage), argue and curse loudly and then leave their beer bottles on our lawn. People throw trash in our yard. Somebody chewed food and then spit globs of it all over my car. (I had to drive to work like that!) People are constantly stopping their cars in the middle of the street to talk to folks on the sidewalk, or worse, in another car, so you can't even get around them if you want to. Kids refuse to use the sidewalk. Whole huge groups of them walk the streets, and when you give them dirty looks when they won't get out of the way they look at you like you've done something stupid, wrong and unnecessary. Random guys stand around on random corners looking like they've got nothing to do. Come on, people. This is how pizza ladies get raped...Let's move it along, Johnny.

I think that ridiculous list pretty much covers it. We don't know how much of this we can stand, so we're already looking at houses online. The trick will be trying to sell our little home that needs a bit of work when brand new places won't sell. FI-ance and I are a bit beside ourselves with disappointment, anger and incredulity. This is some fine mess we've gotten ourselves into.
In addition? We may need to move instead of having a wedding next year. Lovely. Thanks, cop-killing assholes*.

(*They did catch all the major criminals, by the way. But...still.)

Life Sucks, Then You Pay Taxes, Shit and Die...Or Something Like That (Part 1)

Yeah, home ownership is a fine thing. Unless you're like me and the FI-ance. We bought this house at the end of December, moved in January and are just now finally getting things to look the way we want them to. We did the actual moving ourselves and it wore us out. It was the only instance where I'd seen my own stuff so much that I simply didn't want to deal with it for months on end. I mean, it took at least two months to get rid of all the boxes!

And now, now that we finally feel settled, we've had to face the cold, hard facts about something: WE ACCIDENTALLY MOVED INTO THE GHETTO.

Don't misunderstand, internet. It's not like the neighborhood is a war zone. We're not constantly hearing gunshots or police sirens; we don't feel unsafe. And the place looks good, most of the houses are brand new or recently updated. But...but there are some things, mostly small things, that are building up and making us think that...deep breath now...we may need to move next year.

Examples? Well, the first sign we totally ignored. And that was that many of the brand new houses in our area are simply not selling. Including the gorgeous behemoth right next door to us. You know how they say to follow your gut? Your "first mind", your instinct? I didn't. I don't know if FI-ance was at all worried about the unsold-but-on-the-market-for-months brand new home next to what would become our first place, but I did. It was in the back of my mind. Underneath "Oh my God! We found a house!" and behind "It's so cute! It's a perfect starter place!" and somewhere to the left of "I get to decorate! I get to decorate!" If I had just paid attention to that nagging little feeling.

Then, we moved. And we had no appliances for a day or two, but (would you believe?) we still got hungry. Pizza was the natural choice. Except, no one would deliver. We called four different places, some of them a mere five minutes away, and they all said no. One even specifically said, "we don't deliver there after dark." What? I mean...huh? Seriously? Fuck all. What the hell is going on?

Tune in tomorrow for "As the Ghetto Turns"...

So...

If someone is going to sweat their way through a slightly depressing July 4 fireworks party at an assisted living facility only to get hit in the head by overzealous bottle rocket debris, we all know that it's totally going to happen to me, right?

This was the best holiday EVER!

Just...Barely

Friends of the internet, I cannot convey to you how difficult it is to get back to work after a five day vacation. July 4 landing in the middle of the week was an absolute blessing, but now I'm experiencing severe lethargy whenever "work" is mentioned or merely thought of.

And yet, I'm here. Although in spirit I'm totally still in bed, just like I was on July 4,5,6,7 and 8. What's to be expected until my next vacation? The phone will ring but I won't pick it up. I will not respond to messages or emails in a timely fashion. I will not get to work on time even though I'll try real hard to and the filing won't get done. However, what I will do is write blogs on work time, save as much actual work as possible for as late in the day as possible, read magazines, take long lunches and surf fashion/gossip sites as often as I can get away with.

Basically, I will do as little as humanly possible. Will my efforts be successful? No. Likely not.

Baffling

I had a dream last night that a woman I used to work with invited me to stay with her for the weekend. I packed too much jewelry for a weekend trip; that was the crux of the dream. I was really freaked out that there was so much jewelry in my bag and apparently I had no jewelry roll so it was all tangled up.

Obviously my mind is trying to tell me I'm a super genius.

All Quiet On The Western Front

Well, the past few days have been pretty uneventful. I'm procrastinating on about a million things: cleaning, organizing papers, scanning polaroids, turning my loads of cassette tapes from the '80s and '90s into mp3's, looking into more wedding things-including scanning lady of honor dress ideas and sending them to my bud Andrea, folding laundry, selling stuff on half.com, working on the screenplay...Dear God! I could go on but the list is getting depressing.

I was doing really good for a bit, making lists and checking things off as I did them, then feeling really adult and accomplished. But that's fallen by the wayside a bit and I'm committing now, for all the internet to see, to getting that flow back.

I made some very small steps on Thursday toward starting my own business. I made up business cards and a stamp and ordered them! I know, that sentence doesn't seem like it really needed an exclamation point, but it honestly did. See, those things filled two needs: shopping (yay!) and moving ever so slowly ahead with my career aspirations. I've decided to concentrate on two things, my photography (which I know I haven't spoken much about) and my script consulting. I've even started two new websites catering to each. This one is for my photographs, you'll soon be able to buy prints of everything on here once I figure out how to set that up. This site is for my movie reviews and to lead folks to info on my script consulting. There's nothing there just yet, I've got plenty of reviews I could post, but this is another thing I've procrastinated on.

Take a look at them and let me know what you think!

I'm Having A Nervous Breakdown, And Other Items Of Note

6/10/07: FI-ance flops down on the couch one last time. It's the last time because HE BROKE MY COUCH. I am less than pleased. He knows this and begs me not to stop loving him, then tries to fix it with a mallet and does a pretty good job. I have decided to continue letting him touch me.

I share a bowl of cookie dough ice cream covered in turtle magic shell with the FI-ance at 10pm. Then, I head back to the quart and dig out all the cookie pieces I can find in the top half. My stomach disagrees with these decisions. My toilet's not happy about it either.

6/9/07: The FI-ance takes Lila to get an oil change while I wait at home for the Orkin man. He has them check the brakes too, since we know they're winding down. The mechanics say, "What brakes? This car has no brakes." I put $600 on the "emergency only" credit card.

While in the Wal-Mart parking lot, I make FI-ance get out of the car and dispose of a spider on my windshield. He refused to kill it and instead knocked it off with a huff. That's better than nothing.

6/8/07: We have money again. In celebration we go to a new place for dinner, Pueblo Solis. I eat way too many chips and get full before my enormous chicken fajitas get to me. I eat some anyway, and dammit they are GOOD. FI-ance needs "to calm everybody down" so we head to Ted Drews for ice-creamy goodness.

6/7/07: The FI-ance and I take mental health days from work. At about 3:15 I go to pay bills online and realize we've got a negative balance. We head to my old bank to withdraw cash to add to the joint account. I've forgotten my atm password and begin screaming. FI-ance tries to reassure me, saying we can go inside, so I pull over. I lose it. Cursing, screaming, crying, banging on the wheel and dash, throwing things and scaring the bank employees standing outside smoking. Because of this my mental health day was not very healthy, but was totally mental.

6/6/07: FI-ance has a night of gaming as I go slowly insane over possible wedding stuff. After having hope restored, I realize again we have no money for even a small service and reception. I begin to panic and cannot fall asleep until almost 4am. I wake up at dawn to pee and see that FI-ance is still playing Empire at War (some geekfest Star Wars thing). I encourage him to stay home from work since he drives a lot on twisty roads and has had no sleep. He'll only stay home if I do. Not a problem at all.

6/2/07: I've become obsessed with wedding planning. In my search for an affordable location and caterer I see that it all costs too much. I complain to the FI-ance and begin to cry. He offers a suggestion and things seem brighter. Still, I cry myself to sleep. I am such a girl.

5/31/07: A really strange night. As I get ready for bed I notice a huge cockroach in the hall near the laundry baskets. I begin to scream. FI-ance is in the bathroom and takes time out of his busy schedule to let me know he can't help right now. NO SHIT. I smash the beast with a phone book right in front of the closed bathroom door, then jump up and down on it to make sure it's passed on. I lift the book and there is a stain much worse than you can imagine. I know I will never feel the area is clean enough so I have FI-ance bleach it (I know, it turned an odd pink color) and then put a bundle of abandoned Tux fluff on it so the spot is clearly marked.

I try to calm myself by cleaning up a bit. One of the necklaces I laid on the dresser that day is missing. I immediately know who to blame...Tux. I become hysterical, yelling as I look high and low. "I've only had that necklace for two weeks and now it's gone? WHAT THE HELL, TUX?! Why do you hate me? Can't you for once stop being so destructive and mischievous? Why can't I have nice things anymore? Why do boys mess up everything...?"

I cry myself to sleep on the couch. And what's the first thing I see when I wake up? That's right, another roach, but this time in the living room. I chase it across the room into the hall and then the bathroom, spraying it all the way. I corner it and make it die. I pull up the bathroom rug to wash it, and find my necklace. Everything really does happen for a reason.

I wake up in the morning completely worn out. I head out to my car for work and see that some lovely person has eaten something they didn't like AND SPIT GLOBS OF IT ALL OVER LILA. Really? This is the kind of neighborhood we moved into? Honestly? I am frustrated and angry but there is no one nearby for me to kill. I drive to work with hardened food all over my car. I do not care about the staring.

In the Middle of the Night

"Hey, I didn't think you'd be getting back in bed."

"It's 4:30 in the morning, why would I not get back in bed?"

"I don't know. Maybe you went and joined a cult."

*smack*

"That's my girl. Not joining a cult."

Pretty Pretty Shiny

You know internet, every time I think "damn, I really need to get a job I actually want to work at during the day," I get distracted by something shiny. Like a magazine. I'd much rather read a magazine than send out cover letters and resumes and try to convince people more ambitious than myself that I'm worthy of employment. Why am I so fucking lazy when it comes to getting out of this crap job?

You know what else is shiny? Engagement rings that come with the matching wedding band. Yeah, baby. Those are totally fucking shiny. Mama loves that kinda shine. I finally got my ring ordered on Tuesday. I found it by chance a couple of months ago while searching Overstock.com just to see what was out there. This doesn't need mentioning, but I'm saying it anyway...It. Is. FUCKING. SWEET! And we got a great deal on it, it was about 1/2 off the regular price. Even better? I should get it tomorrow!

I know what you're thinking. But what about the surprise? Having the FI-ance spring it on you at some fancy restaurant or mid-air on a ferris wheel while you eat funnel cake? What about the romance? Where's the cute story in ordering your own ring? Well, I ain't gonna lie. I would love that. Which is why, when Mr. FedEx brings that ring to my j.o.b. tomorrow I'm going to fight with all my heart the urge to just slap that puppy on my finger. Seriously, internet, I've thought about it. I can do this. Open the box, make sure it's ok, and then close it up and not tell anyone I've got it.

When I get home it goes to the FI-ance and he's in charge of figuring out a way to present it to me so that it's all special and shit. And, this has to happen before the weekend is over.

You hear that, boy? SPECIAL PRESENTATION. BEFORE. THE WEEKEND. IS. OVER.

Chocolate Ass

I almost cried last night. The urge quickly degraded into short bursts of nervous laughter, but just barely.

What exactly is the issue with boys and messiness? I do not understand. The solution is so simple. Put your jacket in the coat closet. Hang up your pants. Sell those old video games or get rid of them. Why is my FI-ance so hard to train?

To his credit, he's not horrible at keeping up with stuff. As he said last night, "I'm way neater than most straight men." And yeah, he's probably right about that, but I cannot get him to finally do the few things that would make our house look like a real home. And it's not like I'm asking for the place to look like a magazine layout. It just needs to be more organized. I admit some of this is on me (not taking the Goodwill stuff to the donation center, leaving my box of books to sell under the coffee table...), but more of it is the FI-ance.

Case in point. Last night we watched tv from the couch and ate on the coffee table. We always do this because we are tv/movie people and we are also food people. And we don't have a dining room table or enough space in the kitchen to eat in there. After we finished I started to clear things away. The FI-ance shifted in his seat and I saw something.

"Stand up."

"I hope there isn't going to be any yelling."

"Stand. Up."

He did. And what the hell, for the SECOND time in LESS THAN seven days...HE HAD SAT ON CHOCOLATE. I am not even kidding, internet. He's 36 years old and twice this month the man has SAT on food on my couch. What the Hell is wrong with him?

"I'm sorry baby. Please don't be mad at me. I don't mean to sit on food. Really I don't do it on purpose...Come on...I'm a BOY. I'm messy."

I was slowly dissolving. In the grand scheme this is nothing. He's nice and helpful and caring and he bathes. But this? This matters too, internet! And he thinks it's all so funny. I came so close to crying but just couldn't. Why did I want to cry? Because after having the couch for four years I finally got BRAND NEW COUCH COVERS just last month. And every week sees a new stain. Courtesy of the FI-ance. Spaghetti sauce, pizza sauce, computer dirt, and now (twice) chocolate.

So he apologized a lot, but it sorta doesn't matter. I know he didn't mean to do it, but he laughed through the whole apology!

"That's why we got the covers, so we can wash them."

"As much as you spill food they'll be thread-bare in less than a month."

"Oh, honey, come on. What do you expect from me?"

"I expect you to not fucking sit on chocolate! You didn't even move! How does food get UNDER your ass when you don't even move! What the fuck is wrong with you!? From now on I wash the clothes, underwear and towels, and you can wash the sheets, blankets and slipcovers. Seriously fucker."

I didn't go to bed angry or anything because I was never angry. Just really, abidingly disappointed. I feel like I should just serve dinner on the couch. Fuck all the dishes we've got. Or dye the covers (Did I mention the couch is natural colored? Oh yes, it's that bad.) black so nothing but cat hair ever shows.

Dammit, internet! Why can't a girl living with a boy have nice things? Whhhhyyyyy!?

Wild Kingdom

I'm not used to animals. You know that, right? I mean, I'm finally used to the Tuxikitten and he still freaks me out sometimes, with all his cat-like sneakiness and appearing out of nowhere.

Anyway, we've got about six stray cats that hang out in the neighborhood. They like to wander from yard to yard, peeing and eating things. Imagine my surprise as I sat in the FI-ance's car yesterday and watched one of the strays coming from our yard. That alone isn't a big deal. But, as kitty got closer to the car I noticed a freaky sight--KITTEN HAD A KILL IN ITS MOUTH.

Oh God, ya'll. I have never seen anything like it. Whatever Killerkitten was carrying was pretty damn big and fuzzy. Aside from the horror that that thing might've been caught in our yard, I watched in shock as Killer dropped its prey, sat down in our yard and began to play with it. Then, of course, Killer started gnawing. It was like watching a train wreck happen, you know there's carnage and pain but you're so stunned it's in front of you that you can't look away.

And, obviously, since I'm all freaked out, the FI-ance is totally ambivalent: "Aww, that's a good kitty cat. That kitty cat's doing its job, being a good little hunter...ewww." Luckily he drove away before we saw much more. Also lucky? When we got home The Killer and The Dead were completely gone from our yard. Not a single trace of the circle of life was in place. Thank God.
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You know internet, I really like you. So, as a friend, I'm going to give you some advice: don't ever issue threats to spiders. Do what you need to, but don't say anything about it, because they'll find out and they will not be happy.

So, after all my trauma last Saturday night I spent the week going back and forth in Lila trying not to think about the new species I'd discovered in the car then. Everything was fine because ignorance is utter bliss. Thursday changed that.

I was trying to get to work and running late as usual. I threw my things in the car and did a quick look inside to make sure no spideys were apparent. As soon as I take off I notice another huge , white spider hiding in the space between the side mirror and the thing that holds the mirror onto the car. I actually remained fairly calm. Spidey was away from me and I couldn't get to him in there going 80mph, so I figured I'd wait until I hit a light after getting off the highway. Which is exactly what I did.

I keep a can of cheap air freshener in my car for just this reason. It kills and freshens. Brilliant! I sprayed the bugger and he tried to escape by crawling toward my window which I quickly rolled back up and saw that he rolled himself into a little ball...I thought.

At the next light legs appeared wriggling and I realized what I'd done. When I rolled up the window I sorta...cut the spider in half. I know! Stop it, I feel bad enough already! I have no love for spiders, but I don't want them to suffer when I dispense of them. And I absolutely don't want to watch them suffer. It's been days now, and every now and then I see those three legs and half body waving about wildly, almost like it's begging for help. Then the motion stops and it falls on the door and the wind blows it away. Man! It was actually sad and I still feel terrible about that. I swear I try to be humane in my kills.

Well, then all Hell broke loose. It was like every spider in the tri-state area knew what I'd done. They came out of every crease and crevice in my car. They lined up on the dash board wearing little gas masks and carrying shields. Ok, not really but that's what it seemed like. Have you ever tried to kill spiders while driving alone? I could have died.

As I pulled into the garage at work I had to stop suddenly and take off my shoe to kill one that came out near the top of my head. Then another one jumped down from a web on my door. I couldn't get the shoe off again so I sprayed it and it fell God knows where. That was the last straw. I pulled over and jumped out of the car. I could not find that fucker anywhere so I started spraying every surface in the car with Glade. I spritzed every little corner, seam, and most of the floor. Nothing. No sign of it. After about 15 minutes of screaming (yes, at the car in the garage at work as people came and went around me...what was I supposed to do?), sweating, spraying and praying I quickly got back in, parked and jumped out. I had one of the valets wash and vacuum Lila while I was at work. I gave him a five dollar tip.

On Friday I had a realization: if I treat the car with the bug spray I used in the house I should be ok. Since I found a web inside my car this morning, I believe I'll be doing that tonight.

I Love Lila

Lila Ford is my pewter 1998 Ford Escort. Yeah, I know they don't make those anymore. She needs new brakes. There are several cracks and one brand new fracture on her windshield. (Really, it's surprising that I haven't had to have the windshield replaced by now. I always get stuck on the highway behind some rickety Fred Sanford junk truck with rusty rakes, old couches and other beat-up crap hanging outta the back. And they have those humongoid mud flaps that, instead of just moving the street stuff away from the truck, make every pebble fly at me at 3,000 miles per hour. Hence. The cracks.)

Lila's horn has a short in it. I can only hit the side of the horn with the little ABS etching in it, or the horn sounds...and won't stop. The light on the gear shift has gone out and I keep forgetting to get it replaced, so when it's dark I have to turn the overhead on to make sure I'm in the right gear.

I love my Lila Ford. She is the first car I've ever owned. I bought her brand new when I'd been out of college for a little over a year. Actually, it was August 14, 1998. Yeah, I remember it that well. After four years of using St. Louis' slow-ass busses and (pretty cool but often crowded) Metro-Link, I remember well the day I no longer had to ride with the funky, loud and crazy. Or the occasional stray chicken bone.

Even though I love Lila I have not been a very good mommy as of late. Like, in the last three years. Because that's how long it's been since I've washed my car.

Oh my God! Do not judge me internet! I swear I've meant to. I can't take her to one of those gas station car washes because I've always heard that they take the paint off. With apartment living, and no hose, can you imagine how difficult and time consuming it was to carry buckets back and forth to clean her? Well, I did it. For years, I did it. And prior to that I paid to have it done, every month. I was good for a while I really was. Then I found these giant handi-wipe like things that cleaned the car without water. They took a lot of elbow grease but I used them for over a year. Then? Then...

I got lazy and Lila got dirty. There's a fine coat of dust on her dash. The floor is littered with little dead leaves, scraps of paper and a bit of dried brownie (God that brownie was good). When the FI-ance and I moved I put a plant in the trunk. It promptly tipped over and rolled around as I drove even though I thought it was well braced. How much do you want to bet that the dirt is still in my trunk FOUR MONTHS LATER?

I've been saying for years that I was finally going to take care of my Lila. Well, Saturday was the last straw. Why? Because...THERE. WERE. SPIDERS.

The FI-ance was getting over the flu and craving a Quater Pounder With Cheese, so I made him go to McDonald's with me (I swear he really was feeling better. And, as an additional side note, he wore his robe, a pair of underwear, flip flops and a black snap brim cap. See? Even when he's sick he's cool.)

We're in my car sitting at a light and he goes: "Hey, look. There's a spider on the outside of the window." Immediate panic. I rolled up the window and ran the wipers to try and kill it, then began to itch all over. But that's not the worst of it. I looked at the FI-ance to ask if he saw the damn spider die. As soon as I finish the question my gaze is drawn upward to his sun visor, which is mere millimeters from his cap. And playing host to another very, very large spider.
Then I started screaming.

I turned the light on so he could kill it, but of course "spiders kill worse things, we like spiders. I can't just kill it." Me=Still Screaming. But now I'm driving too because the light's changed. He grabs some ephemera from somewhere in the car and attempts to put the beast out the window. What kills me is that we don't know if he got it OUTSIDE or not. It was too dark and FI-ance was too goofy from flu to notice for sure.

So, America's spiders are officially on notice. As of this weekend Lila Ford will be spotless and unable to accept any new occupants. You dig?

Ahh, Spring...

We were hit with an unexpected cold snap at the beginning of April. Blooming things had to retreat to the earth from wince they came, and those that couldn't will have to wait until next year to be seen again.

Saturday was chilly and rainy, but a fun and family-filled day. The FI-ance and my parents are this close to meeting now, since we saw them both on Saturday (the first time this happened on a non-holiday). His 'rents are the very eager type; if they're up early they assume we are too and insist on calling. Of course, this time we were glad they called because they were about half way to our still-sleep-filled house. On top of that we had to take the FI-ance's car for an oil change before they got to us and it was only 9:30am. Suddenly I had to put on clothes, hide stray underwear and clean the bathroom. And you know there's more, right? I'd told Mrs. FI-ance that I'd scan all the photos she gave me of FI-ance as a wobbly-headed boy by Saturday so that if we saw them she could take her albums back. You know I didn't do it. Stop playing, internet.

After a fairly short visit, where the 'rents dropped off the FI-ance's ladders and loaned us a big ol' saw for hacking away at the tree in the backyard, we picked up the car and then headed out to lunch. I wanted a simple soup and sandwich BAD, but the FI-ance wanted Chinese so I gave in and settled on our local Chinese Buffet. Don't get me wrong, I love a good buffet. My problem is that I love them too much. I always eat one plate too many and I always know I'm doing it.

What did me in this time? Oh, Lord. The. Peach. Cobbler. I will admit here that I am a bit oddball-like because I hate peaches and hate cooked peaches even more. But? But. That peach juice combined with a crispy, brown, flaky crust gets me every time. I had two heaping helpings. Almost ate myself sick.

Which brings me to all my health issues. I went to an internist Monday, she did a little physical exam and told me nothing felt or looked unusual. I go back tomorrow morning for blood work so they can check for thyroid conditions, diabetes, cholesterol issues...

Can I make a confession? I would love to be able to blame my insane weight gain on a semi-serious illness. LOVE IT. How sick is that? Obviously I had to step on a scale when I went to the doctor, and I've gained about 7 pounds since January. I thought about ordering some pants for summer today (size 22 women's...yay), but have since become a bit depressed. I look at all the crap I could be buying if I weren't so fat - cheap, cute stuff. Then I look at the fat people clothes - mostly matronly and expensive. Or, if they're cute, REALLY OUTRAGEOUSLY expensive. I cannot win.

It's also possible I've got irritable bowl syndrome. I might have to go to a gastrointerologist to see for sure. If my blood work comes back clear I'll have no more excuses; it'll be pretty clear that the fatigue is probably due to my 40lbs-in-one-year weight gain.

My doc suggested Weight Watchers and actually going to the meetings. I know it works for a lot of people, but it just seems so cheesy (mmmmm...cheeeeeese...). Sitting in a depressing little room filled with fat people talking about how hard it is to stop being fat. Not being able to say words like "cookie", "barbecue", "ham" or "bread" because it might be some fat fuck's trigger word or whatever.

Dammit. Can you tell how my day's going?

March=Medicine

You know what internet? I've had a weird month. There's been a vague sense of intestinal illness hovering about me all March long. It's irritating. I can't seem to regulate the bloating, farting, going-to-the-bathroom, not-going-to-the-bathroom stuff. I've taken so much stuff to settle my stomach in the last 30 days that I, personally, could keep the Tums and Rolaids people afloat.

I even had to take two days off just for all the farting. It was honestly gas that you would not believe. What do you mean, why am I telling you this? It's Friday morning, stop pretending you've got something better to do. Ok?

Anyway, it was insane. The entire two days I was off I thought something bigger and badder had to be coming, but it never did. I finally took Immodium just to stop the bloat-fart cycle. Unfortunately it also stopped another cycle, which lead to one interesting night a couple of weeks ago.

About four months ago I got recommendations from my gyno for a GP. I sent an email to one (who takes my insurance) to get an appointment, but never heard anything. I was trying to avoid talking to anybody if I didn't have to, but now I suppose I've got no choice.

Fuck.

Has It Really Come To This?

I was minding my own business Thursday night. Doing a little pre-bed grooming: washing the face, brushing the teeth and such. I noticed the eyebrows needed some maintaining. So I started plucking. What, you ask is so special about that? Well, nothing. Except? Except that I HAD TO PLUCK A GRAY EYEBROW HAIR.

Damn. Really? At 32? This is what my future holds now? Gray facial hairs? Seriously?

Don't get me wrong, I realize this is nobody's fault. But I don't think I can do this. It's bad enough I get the occasional whisker that needs removing. I've been dealing with that crap since I was about 24. But if I have to yank a gray whisker from any of my whisker-spots prior to my 40th birthday, I truly think it may kill me.

So, face? You're on notice asswipe. Tone that shit down.

7:20AM Sucks

Well, it finally happened. After getting to work a half hour late for a few days I finally got spanked. I had to have a mid-point catch-up thingy with my supervisor last Friday, and was quite gently told to stop my being late bullshit. I really had been meaning to work on that, but you know what? I hate waking up early and hadn't gotten in trouble so I said fuck it. I knew it was crap, though, so I'm attempting to rectify my shit.

I got up before 8am yesterday and damned if it didn't screw me over. I got a headache, my eyeball started itching and then I felt sick to my stomach. And yes, I honestly do believe getting up early did all that to me.

It is now the same time that I started to fall apart yesterday. Wish me luck.

My Right Boob Is Out Of Control

No matter what bra I put on, it's like Right Boobica has a mind of her own. Every time I look down I find she's trying to unleash herself on the world. I freely admit to staying far away from underwired, super-supportive, side-binding, back-flattening, old-droopy-lady bras. But dammit, Boobica! Control yourself already!!
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I had a dream the night before last. I've had some well-documented freak show dreams, but this one was odd mainly for it's brevity. It was a dark, rainy night. The FI-ance and I were living in the house I grew up in, which had two front doors; one where the door really was on the right side, and one on the left side. The house was dark and we heard a noise. We opened the left door to a life-sized milk chocolate rendering of Arnold Swartzenegger. That was it. I think I might donate my brain to science after I die.
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Almost two weeks ago now I was using the bathroom and talking to my mom on the phone (Quiet! She's my mom, ok?). The house came with one of those storage-y over-the-toilet cabinet things, and Tux likes to lounge around up there. You know, maybe look out the window a bit. Well, silly-cat-face was doing just that, and as he tried to back out of the window onto the top shelf he fell. Onto me. As I talked on the phone while sitting on the toilet. My life, it can get no better.
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So, I went to the eye doctor Wednesday. Apparently my glasses are useless now, even though I hadn't noticed. I've got more myopias & astigmatisms & such, and therefore spent $400 on new glasses. While I'm glad I had the cash to spend and didn't need to lay it on my Citibank, I was really wanting to get something fun and basically frivolous with my tax refund. Like a new camera, or a nice little trip someplace. An additional $400 is going to be spent on starting to fix our screwy pipes. That leaves about $125. Damned responsibility.
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Also on Wednesday? Another bathroom adventure. I'm not entirely sure what's wrong with me. I eat a bowl of oatmeal for breakfast almost everyday, suck down lots of veggies and fruit. But what happened for the second time in 7 days? Yes, I stopped up the toilet. Honestly? That's just not ladylike. What's worse is that after a half hour of plunging (my hand has been sore for two days...shut up), I still couldn't get things to move along, out of my life and out of my house. The FI-ance had fallen asleep at his desk, but I woke him up and if my face weren't so naturally brown it would have turned bright red because I was em-bar-ras-sed. I asked him if he wanted to try. He thankfully said no (I really didn't want him going in there and seeing...well, what he would have had to see), so I headed to WalMart. Thank God they had a toilet snake. Incidentally? As I left and drove home I felt like everyone I passed knew I PERSONALLY had clogged up a toilet.

My Financial Nitwittery Strikes Again

My current major source of consternation is my own idiocy. I've managed twice in the past two months to incur 4 insufficient funds fees and, for about a week, a long string of negative balance fees. The most fantastic part? These God dammed fees ate up a healthy portion of my state tax refund. I finally got up the nerve to call and try to get the shit waived yesterday, but as I suspected, it was no use. I suppose I could've been harder nosed or tried crying, but it's my own fucking fault. I really will get it together one day.

On a considerably more positive note, I've begun saving again. I set up automatic deposits to my savings account on the 15th of every month, with the added hope of putting something in at every other pay period too. I have not told the FI-ance, but now that he's read this I hope he'll continue to trust my spankin' new saving acumen and just let me handle this. OK, boy?

The thing about having a house is that issues just keep coming. We had finally gotten all settled when we noticed the basement drain backing up every time we did the laundry. We called a plumber...and then we called him again 3 days later. Turns out our pipes are offset and that's what's with all the blockage. It's apparently a lateral line problem, which means our fair city has to come out and run a camera through the pipes to see where the issue is.

What's that you say? Oh, heavens no! The camera work isn't free, that'll be $400 please, says the city of Kirkwood. On top of that, when we finally go to get the crap fixed for good we'll be on the hook for %40 of the $3,000 to $6,000 cost of repairs, even though it's the city's pipes that are fucked. What the Hell! As long as nothing is going to cave in, the FI-ance and I have agreed to wait and not put ourselves into anymore debt over this pipe thing. And (knockonwoodpraisetheLord) the basement hasn't backed up in two weeks anyway.

Also, we could use more kitchen cabinets. We've gotten rid of a ton of pots, pans, dishes and utensils, but there still isn't enough room for what's left and, you know...food. I've had to resort to using the oven as storage space, and not just the broiler part at the bottom, but the whole damn thing, y'all. We have one good wall for cabinets, and the FI-ance's estimate of parts and labor sets us back $500 big ones. Why couldn't the heifer who rehabbed this place had thought to put those up? I mean how is anybody supposed to fit all their dishes and food and shit into 4 cabinets, one of which has the sink/garbage disposal pipes running through it? Bitch, please.

Now that's it's warming up a bit there are some spring type things we need. A water hose, stain and seal for the deck, a rake, lawn mower, edge trimmer, and definitely some pest control. Every time I venture into the basement now, I see at least one roach. I cannot stand the idea of those things in my house. Even in the basement. Now, we had a conversation about this just last night: the FI-ance claims (though he hasn't seen any of the bugs) that I'm not seeing roaches. "I bet some of them are beetles." Honestly, I realize that an unfinished basement, especially, is gonna have buggles of all kinds. But I know a roach when I see one. And, yes, we have roaches, of the cock variety, in the nethers of our house.

I'm trying to be reasonable about it. I wanted to go to Lowe's or Home Depot and get one of those giant bug jugs with the sprayer on it, douse the outside of the house and a few important corners inside and be done with it. FI-ance wants to call the Orkin man. Here I am trying to be all do-it-yourselfy, and he wants to spend more money on professional spraying service. Cause that's all there is to it, right? You buy some good killin' stuff, spray it and you're done. Right?

My Current List of Problems

-Being bored at work
-Sick of getting up and going to work everyday but still needing the paycheck
-Having a dining room full of bags and boxes and no idea where to put them
-Owning an excessive amount of books, towels and silverware even though I've given several away
-Staying at home way too much
-1 unfinished screenplay that I wanted to enter into 2 contests by the end of February
-No savings and a huge list of things I need and want
-Being tired all the time, and therefore not doing other things that will make my life better (cooking instead of eating fast food, exercising instead of napping, organizing the house, working on creative ideas, going out at night like a normal relatively young person...)
-No comfort with socializing
-Having trouble keeping in contact with my few non-work friends
-Feeling really busy yet knowing I don't actually do anything
-Seemingly being completely non-orgasmic and thereby becoming less and less interested in sex

I took care of two of these issues this weekend. The lack of energy thing has plagued me for months now, so I finally decided to give up my Flintstones Chewables and try a more mature vitamin. I picked that all day energy One-A-Day kind. I didn't feel anything on Saturday when I had my first dose (I had to cut the pill in half, btw. Why do vitamins have to be so fuckin' HUGE?), but I got a major burst of something Sunday night at 11pm. I started cleaning the dining room and got rid of 6 boxes and 5 bags of our combined crap, put together a bookcase and filled it and two other cases with books. I went to bed at 3am. You know I'm almost dead now, right? I mean, I can feel my eyes trying to go to sleep without my permission as I type. I'm trying so hard to keep busy at work today so things go by quickly and I can get home by 5pm to take a nap before heading out to review my first film (Music and Lyrics) in almost two months.

*snore*